


All I Want for Christmas... Is You.

by LivviBee



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28323870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivviBee/pseuds/LivviBee
Summary: In which JARVIS is a good wingman, and Tony can't decide what to get Peter for Christmas, and Peter has his own ideas about suitable presents.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 171
Collections: 2020 Marvel Holiday Secret Santa





	All I Want for Christmas... Is You.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dinendal2002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinendal2002/gifts).



> Dinendal2002, I truly hope you enjoy this work. I couldn't incorporate everything I wanted, so keep your eyes peeled for a soulmate AU that should be appearing soon. Merry Christmas!
> 
> As usual this is unbetad, but I do want to thank my friends who read this over and gave me such nice feedback, Kate, Kat, and Bean, y'all the real MVPs.

Tony watched the crackling fire behind Peter’s silhouette with envy, wishing that it was him instead surrounding the young man in warmth, him causing Peter to spread his limbs and sigh, luxuriating in comfort. He watched dry mouthed as Peter rolled over and arched his back, letting out a quiet moan of pleasure at the stretch. What Tony wouldn’t give to be laid in front of the hearth himself, sharing in that heat, basking like lizards with limbs entwined as the logs popped merrily away in the grate. 

“Your turn Tony, pick a name already!” 

Tony startled at the words, confusion setting in as something solid nudged him in the side of his arm. “Sorry, what?”

“Earth to Tony Stark?” Clint kept pushing the bowl of names against Tony’s arm as he spoke. “Team Secret Santa, we’re drawing names? Remember?”

“Sure thing Legolas, drawing names, got it.” 

Tony took the bowl and swirled the contents around dramatically before squeezing his eyes shut and rooting around with his free hand. After several long seconds of hemming and hawing, he pulled out a small slip of paper, and tucked it in his pocket. 

“Aren’t you going to check who it is?” Steve’s disappointment was evident in his tone. Having decided on Secret Santa as the team’s seasonal bonding exercise, he had definite ideas on how it should be conducted. 

“With a room full of super spies?” Tony deftly caught the pillow Nat threw at his head. “Not a chance Cap.”

“C’mon Tones, just read it!” Rhodey looked exasperated. 

Tony huffed, but pulled out the paper and unfolded it carefully, shielding it from Clint’s curious gaze. He read the name with a combination of excitement and dread; the name on the scrap was both the best and the worst person Tony could have drawn. Peter.

His feelings about Peter were, well, complicated. Somewhere along the way the awkward teen he mentored had grown up into a stunningly handsome young man, a valued member of the Avengers, someone who held his own whether in battling wits with Tony in the lab or taking down the villain of the week with the team. As Peter had grown and changed, so too had Tony’s affections. One day last year Tony had simply woken up, and been slapped with the realization that he was in love with Peter, and could never, _ever_ tell him. How could he ruin their deepening friendship over misplaced feelings, that would never be returned?

Several weeks later, the tower was bustling on every floor with holiday cheer, and Christmas was only days away. Tony still had exactly zero good ideas of what to give Peter. He let out a wordless noise of frustration and threw the wrench he was using across the lab. “Damnit JARVIS, I have no idea what to get him!”

“Sir- May I suggest something that shows him how you feel?”

“No, c’mon J, we’ve discussed this, I’m not telling Peter how I feel about him. I refuse to be that creepy old man lurking around, covertly sniffing his hair when they hu- Oh God, I’m that creepy old man already!”

Tony paced around the lab tugging at his hair for several minutes before stilling as an idea suddenly struck him. 

“Ahah!” He said triumphantly. “JARVIS, Where is Peter now?”

“Mr. Parker is training in the upstairs gym.”

“Has he been there long?”

“By my analysis of his typical routine, he will be occupied for the next forty-five minutes.”

“Perfect...”

Tony let himself into Peter’s room and looked around with curious eyes. He hadn’t been in this space since Peter first moved into the tower. The room was neat and organized, the dark blue duvet neatened on the bed, which was positioned below the large floor-to-ceiling window, revealing a stunning view of Midtown Manhattan. The floor was clear of laundry, and the desk free of clutter. The built in shelves along the far wall were covered in pictures. Tony could pick out Ned and May easily, along with friends Peter had made in college, all mixed together with cityscapes and improbable angles of skyscrapers that only Peter could capture.

Slipping into the closet, Tony paused to sniff the robe hanging on the closet door, inhaling a deep breath of the scent that was uniquely Peter. He rubbed his face against the plush fabric for a moment, before moving onto his goal, the accessories drawers. Tony had thought he’d seen Peter coming in with cold red hands lately, and found his suspicions confirmed by the collection of single gloves in a shallow drawer. He shook his head fondly. It was exactly like Peter to keep half of a lost pair, hoping optimistically that he’d come across the mate again someday. It was equally like him to not simply go out and buy himself some new gloves. Tony noted that the most worn in glove seemed to be the softest and warmest out of the bunch.

Tony paused before he snuck back out of the room. “JARVIS? Don’t tell Peter about this.”

“Sir, my privacy protocols dictate-”

“C’mon J, breaching the anonymity of the Secret Santa game is a Christmas spirit violation of the highest order!”

If an A.I. could sigh, Tony would absolutely have characterized the noise he received in response as a long-suffering one. He slipped back out of the room and made his way to the lab, already designing the gift in his head. 

On Christmas Eve morning, Tony walked into the penthouse kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes against the blurriness that accompanied an all night engineering binge. It had taken him days of work, but finally Peter’s gift was perfect. He’d created a pair of gloves with the same built in warming system as Peter’s suit, made of a cozy yet waterproof fabric that Tony had designed himself. The piece de resistance were the homing beacons inside the gloves that would connect to Karen, so Peter could track them down if they got lost. 

Tony stopped in his tracks as he approached the counter, blinked, rubbed his eyes, then blinked again. There was definitely a steaming cup of coffee, with a festively embossed red and gold envelope propped up against it. 

“JARVIS?”

“Sir?”

“Am I hallucinating, or have you finally gained the ability to materialize a cup of coffee when I need one the most?”

“Neither sir.”

“Then who the hell was in here making a cup of coffee at seven AM?”

Silence. 

“Hello? J, I’m expecting an answer.”

“I believe, as you said before, that ‘breaching the anonymity of the Secret Santa game is a Christmas spirit violation of the highest order.’”

Tony gaped up at the ceiling. “That was to protect _me_ , not my Secret Santa! I’ll give you to-”

“Donate me to a preschool if you must sir, but protocols are protocols.”

Sass! Rudeness! Blatant disrespect! Tony pondered these things silently as he took a cautious sip of the coffee. To his surprise, It was made exactly as he preferred, with just the right amount of sugar to mellow out the sharp bitterness of the drink. Finally, after slurping down more than half of the mug, Tony turned his attention to the envelope, and opened it with extreme curiosity. What kind of flat, envelope sized, less than $100 gift would someone buy or make for a billionaire? The card inside simply and infuriatingly read: _Meet me by the Christmas tree at midnight tonight. -Your Secret Santa_

Tony spent the long hours pondering, pacing, boiling with curiosity, napping, and debating with JARVIS over setting up a live feed of the penthouse living room. It was moments like these Tony regretted designing an assistant that could think for himself. Finally, _finally_ , it was time to head downstairs to the living room. Tony descended the stairs quietly in his bare feet, brimming with anticipation, dressed in a dark red zip neck sweater and dark wash jeans. Tony could feel that the fireplace was lit from the warmth of the room, could hear the wood crackling softly in the quiet. It was on the last step when the tree came into full view that Tony came to a full and abrupt stop. 

It was Peter. But a Peter like he’d never seen before. The younger man clearly hadn’t heard Tony coming downstairs, and was turned facing the tree, the lights of which cast a perfect, shining halo around his silhouette. He was standing on a white furry blanket, wearing… God, what he _wasn’t_ wearing. Miles of his creamy skin was revealed, contrasting sharply against the bright red… Panties? Yes, Tony decided, they couldn’t be called anything _but_ panties, that were preserving the tattered shreds of his modesty. There was a large gold satin bow nestled just below the delicious dip of his spine, covering the top of the tight ass that Tony could recognize in a hundred man line-up. Tony’s brain was spinning in circles. Peter was waiting for him on the cusp of Christmas, alone in the penthouse wearing nothing but panties, panties in Tony’s colors. Maybe his feelings weren’t so hopeless after all?

Tony decided very quickly that he could work with this, and cleared his throat lightly, watching as Peter spun around where he stood, clutching the candy cane he’d been nervously readjusting on the tree, and revealing that his dick was already hard inside his panties. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter squeaked his name, blush spreading across his face and down his chest. 

Tony watched Peter’s hands flail about for a moment, like he didn’t know what to do with them, while Tony stood silent spellbound by that blush. “Peter… You look…” 

Peter’s blush darkened. “Do you- do you like it?” 

“I love it.” Tony said honestly. “You’re stunning. A vision.”

With a brilliant and relieved smile Peter said, “Merry Christmas,” holding his arms out for effect. 

Tony padded across the room, adjusting his rapidly hardening cock inside his jeans as he crossed, meeting Peter, who had watched the adjustment with keen and hungry eyes, beside the tree. He silently took the candy cane from Peter’s hand. 

“Peter,” Tony said while unwrapping the candy cane with deft fingers, peeling back the clear cellophane and exposing the hardened sugar inside, “I hate to tell you this, but this makes my gift to you seem awfully uninspired in comparison.”

Tony held the end of the candy cane out, watching as Peter bent his head slightly and sucked the shaft into his mouth, humming in pleasure at the sweet peppermint taste. Tony pulled it back slightly, watching as Peter’s cheeks hollowed from his efforts to keep the candy inside, then smoothly drew the entire thing down and out of Peter’s mouth, dragging sugar sticky sweetness in a glistening trail across his lower lip. The Christmas lights were twinkling on the tree, reflecting rainbow hues across the side of Peter’s face as he pouted at the loss. 

“Mr. Stark.” Peter’s lips stayed parted slightly, Tony watched avariciously as the boy’s pink tongue darted out and swiped across his lower lip before retreating again, chasing the flavor of the candy cane. 

Tony’s mouth was suddenly bone dry, cock throbbing angrily in his jeans. “Yes Peter?”

“Do you want to know what I _really_ want for Christmas?”

“More than anything,” Tony replied breathlessly. 

Peter tilted his chin up towards Tony and leaned in, brushing his soft cheek against Tony’s goatee to whisper in his ear. “What I really want, what I’m truly hoping for, since I’ve been _such_ a good boy this year?” 

“Yes,” Tony hissed, “that’s what I want to know.”

“All I want for Christmas… Is you.”

Tony’s self control shattered like the candy cane he’d just dropped onto the slate floor. His hand flew up and fisted into Peter’s hair, drawing him away from where he was nuzzling maddeningly into Tony’s throat and crashing their mouths together with slick, fierce hunger. Peter’s lips were as soft and sweet as Tony had always imagined, a discovery he made as his tongue traced the seam of Peter’s mouth and darted inside, seeking more of that peppermint-Peter-sugar flavor. Their tongues entwined wildly as Tony gripped at Peter’s firm ass and pulled him close, feeling the lace and satin of his panties against his hand, groaning in satisfaction at the pressure of Peter’s hardness against his own. 

Peter broke the seal of their kiss and dropped gracefully to his knees. “Mr. Stark,” he said, looking up at Tony through dark lashes. 

Tony ran his hands through Peter’s curls. “You know, you can call me Tony.”

Peter grinned viciously. “I know, I like it better this way-” and started unbuttoning Tony’s jeans, drawing out Tony’s achingly hard cock and wrapping it in his hand, then licking gently at the tip, collecting the moisture that had been beading out. 

Groaning at the contact, Tony watched as his cock fed into the hot silk of Peter’s wet mouth, being greedily sucked down just like the candy cane. Peter kept pushing closer and closer, taking Tony’s length into his mouth until Tony could feel it nudging the back of Peter’s throat. Tony’s hands tightened involuntarily into Peter’s hair, making Peter moan deep in his chest, sending vibrations along Tony’s cock. 

“Shit” Tony swore, “you like that?”

Peter looked up at Tony again, eyes wide and trusting, nodding his head as best he could around his mouthful. Tony pulled harder, smiling sadistically as he felt and heard Peter’s answering whimper.

“What else do you like, you wanna be my good little slut?” Tony asked experimentally, watching Peter’s eyes go dark in response. “Is that right? Out here waiting for me in just a pair of panties, getting hard just thinking about my touch?”

Tony felt Peter’s hands wrapping around his denim clad thighs, pulling him even closer and forcing his cock to push down the narrow channel. Peter swallowed wildly around the intrusion, eyes fluttering shut as Tony began to rock his hips back and forth, popping the head of his cock in and out of the massaging tightness of Peter’s throat.

“Fuck slut, your mouth-” Tony panted, trying to control himself. 

Tony kept thrusting in and out, deepening the strokes as Peter moaned and drooled uncontrollably around his cock. He could already feel himself getting close embarrassingly fast, heat already spooling in his stomach and balls drawing up tightly. Tony pulled out of Peter’s mouth, making Peter whine below him, protesting the loss as he kicked off his jeans. 

“Can I fuck you?” 

Peter turned around on his knees and wiggled his ass, making the bow jiggle enticingly as he answered hoarsely, “Why don’t you unwrap your gift and find out?”

Tony growled and dropped to his knees, tugging at the silky red fabric, drawing it down off Peter’s hips and down below his cheeks. He paused at what was revealed, a shining silver plug with a blue inset, nestled between Peter’s cheeks, snugged into his hole, and very reminiscent of his arc reactor. Tony felt utterly feral, like he would die if he didn’t get inside Peter this instant. 

“Were you a greedy slut earlier? Stretching out your tight little hole, hoping I’d fuck you?

“Yes Mr. Stark,” Peter replied thickly, “I was thinking about being _your_ greedy slut.”

“Good boy, “ Tony said, slapping one of Peter’s enticingly pale cheeks. He smiled in satisfaction at the answering moan, and made a mental note to explore that at a later date. 

Tony pulled at the base of the plug, watching greedily as Peter’s tight furl of muscle expanded easily around the flared head. He pulled it out halfway to the widest point then let Peter’s ass suck it back in, repeating the action several times just to listen to Peter’s whimpers of pleasure. Tony pulled the plug out all the way, discarding it on the floor and admiring the glistening flutter of Peter’s suddenly empty hole. 

“Please- Please Mr. Stark, Tony, please fuck me!” 

“Lube?” Tony asked roughly. 

Peter reached under the blanket and brought out a bottle, handing it back clumsily to Tony as hips shifted restlessly. He squirted some lube directly on Peter’s hole, and spread it all around with a finger, tracing the softness of his pucker, slowly sliding his finger inside. There was plenty of play. Tony added a second finger, thrusting in and out, then started crooking them down toward the floor, aiming for Peter’s sweet spot. Peter started crying out with every stroke, hole contracting around Tony’s fingers which were darting over his prostate as Tony worked up to a third finger. 

“Please, God, I’m dying here, please-”

“Please what, my pretty little slut?” Tony smiled in vicious satisfaction. 

Peter was almost sobbing in frustration. “Put your cock in my ass, please Mr. Stark, I need it!”

Tony removed his fingers, then lined up and started to slowly push inside, controlling the depth and giving Peter a chance to adjust to his thickness. Peter suddenly shifted his weight back, making Tony slide all the way inside his ass in one long motion. Tony hissed at the tightness surrounding his cock, and grabbed wildly at Peter’s hair, holding him in place with a tight fist. 

“Fuck Peter, if you want this to last, hold still.” Tony smacked the side of Peter’s ass as he wiggled it playfully. 

“If you fuck me right Mr. Stark,” Peter panted, “I won’t need it to last.”

Tony gritted his teeth and started pumping his hips slowly, moaning at the silken heat surrounding his cock. Peter was moaning below him with every stroke, tightening his ass around Tony’s cock. He adjusted his angle experimentally until Peter started yelping and pleading with every thrust. 

“Oh my God- Oh- Oh God, Mr. Stark, fuck- Please-”

Applying himself to rutting into Peter’s tight ass, Tony let go of Peter’s hair and wrapped his hands around Peter’s hips, digging in his fingers until he was sure there would be bruises in the morning. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Tony cooed, “taking my cock so well.” He let Peter’s cries of pleasure go to his head, plunging his cock inside Peter’s tightness at a punishing pace until he felt that familiar coil tightening in his core, heat pooling like a volcano that was ready to erupt. 

Tony reached underneath Peter’s washboard abs and wrapped a calloused hand around his dick, spreading the leaking precum around the head with his thumb, jerking him off in time with the thrusts into his hole. 

“Please Mr. Stark?” Peter whined, sounding strung out and dick drunk from where his head was hanging as he braced himself on his forearms, meeting Tony’s thrusts. 

“Please what baby?”

“Can I cum? Please I’ve been so good.”

“Unh,” Tony barely held himself back from finishing with a strangled groan, keeping his plunging steady into Peter’s ass. “Yes- God you’re so good, you’re so fucking good, of course you can cum.”

Peter let out a long wailing cry as he tightened around Tony’s cock like a vice, spilling hot cum over Tony’s hand and onto the floor, pushing Tony over the edge with his rhythmic contractions. It was like fire running through his veins, whiting out his vision as his hips stuttered to a stop, moaning interspersed with babbling about how good Peter was. 

Tony slowly came back to himself, slumped over Peter’s back, and pulled out gently, watching the resulting flood of cum and pushing it back in with his thumbs. 

Peter wriggled at the touch and asked sleepily, “Mmm, Mr. Stark, we going again?”

“Shh baby, no, just putting this back where it belongs.”

Tony laid down next to Peter on the blanket, drawing the younger man to rest against his chest as he gently stroked through his hair. His brain started working again a few minutes into the afterglow. “Wait a minute! Why weren’t you surprised when I said my gift to you was silly? There was a less than two percent chance of us getting each other as recipients.”

Peter started shaking with laughter, but had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Okay so, the drawing was maybe just a teeny tiny bit rigged... All the papers had my name, the whole team was trying to help get us together finally.”

Tony’s mind was blown. “Wow. You had JARVIS in on it too, didn’t you?”

“What can I say, he’s a great wingman.”

They laid there in silence for a few moments, basking in the heat from the fireplace, just like Tony had wished all those weeks ago. 

Peter rolled toward Tony and stroked his smooth chest, carefully tracing the edge of the arc reactor. “Anyway, what _did_ you get me?”


End file.
